


It's Just That Scruff! You Can't Resist

by aloverinthedark



Series: Scruff Boy [1]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV), Teenwolf - Fandom, sterekstereksterek, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Beacon Hills, Beacon Hills High School, Coffee, Community: beacon_hills, F/M, Fluff, Help, Love, M/M, Series, Smell, Smut, Smutty, Sterek Campaign, age appropriate sex (between the characters), allison - Freeform, blowjob, mate, musk, post season 3 except allison is alive because you can't fucking kill allison, scent, sterek, wood, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:27:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1473118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloverinthedark/pseuds/aloverinthedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a new wolf in town, who seems to have taken a keen interest in Stiles. Little does Stiles know, so does Derek. Stiles doesn't have a problem with this though because he's been longing for Derek forever. There will be love and smut sooo yea. Also this is a work in progress so it is subject to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Supernatural Free Night

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic ever! So be nice please! Feel free to comment! I'm going to be posting every Wednesday!!!!!! I will try to do about 2,000-3,000 words. I will keep going if you guys really want me to, let me know what you think! Feedback is very much appreciated! I also didn't want Allison to be dead because you can't just freaking kill her, okay?! She's not like crazy important to the story line, but I want her there. Let me know if you like where this is going!

 

Stiles loved looking at his scruff too much. Derek was talking to Scott, leaving Stiles- who was off to the side- to stand and observe the conversation, and Derek. Why did this have to happen in the courtyard of the school? Although Stiles enjoyed examining Derek, he also knew that he could get distracted by the way it would frame his face, not too thick and not too thin, just perfect. He could just imagine it tickling his cheek and neck. Stiles noticed that Derek had altered the hair this time, it looked more distressed, seeming as if it was flowing backwards. Stiles sighed, which of course Derek noticed and regarded with a subtle smirk before asking him if he needed his throat ripped out.

              Stiles was torn from his daydream, feeling his cheeks start to flush he stumbled through his reply. “No, uh actually. I quite like my throat,” grasping  his windpipe and acting out exaggerated breaths—hopefully trying to make the rest of his face red to hide his almost apparent blushing, “helps me breathe and all…” He needed to change the topic before Derek started to question Stiles’ now very red face. “Scott, are you two wittle puppies finished talking about the fire hydrant over there? We have to get to Math.”

              “Sure.” Turning to Derek, “I’ll text you after I’m done with class” said Scott.

              “Text me, we  don’t know who the wolf will target next. It seems to be the weak and vulnerable but…” looking over at Stiles, “well, maybe we do know someone.” He left the words hanging in the air, and turned away, leaving his bulging, defined, back to face Stiles as he left the school.

Stiles watched Derek swoop into his car, his strong yet graceful descent into the seat was slowed by his strong hands gripping the wheel as he closed the door of his car. Stiles realized that he had been watching him again. He just hoped that Scott hadn’t noticed. Then he felt a light punch on his shoulder.

“Dude, you have got to stop daydreaming about her. She’s never gonna go for you.” Deadpanned Scott

“ _Her_?” he said reflexively. Stiles turned, looked, and was relieved when he saw Scott looking at Alison and Lydia approaching from the same way Derek had just come. Throwing his arm around Scott he began. “Yea, sorry. I know what you mean, _except_ ” raising a finger, wagging at him like the bad wolfy boy he was “for the part that she’s going to wake up one morning and realize her love for me and then she’ll declare our titles a paramours by announcing it to anyone who will listen. It’s going to happen Scott, let me tell you my friend.”  With that he poked Scot’s chest and smiled to himself.

Scott only looked lost by the words he had just used. Recovering, he sighed and said “whatever dude, let’s just go to math.”  

******************************

              That math class seemed to be the longest one of Stiles’ life. He couldn’t help thinking about his crush on Derek. It was different, his infatuation had been focused on Lydia for years, he had even decided where they would have their wedding. Then Derek came into his life. Scott was bitten by an alpha and Derek had shown up. Stiles didn’t like him at first, he thought Derek was unnecessarily aggressive and irritating at times…well most of the time. That all changed though after Derek helped Scott and Stiles with the Kanima and the hunters. Although he wasn’t a fan of his methods, Stiles realized that Derek was only thinking of the collective good for Beacon Hills. With that he had reminded Stiles that people all have some good buried in the depths of their hearts, they just need a reason to find it. Stiles continued to reminisce of Derek’s introduction into his life and let his teacher’s voice fade into the background, just waiting until the bell would ring when he would finally be free.

              Eventually Stiles had missed the bell and only noticed it was time to leave by sound of chairs scraping against the floor. It seemed to cut through the air and draw Stiles out of his nostalgia. He saw Scott texting, who he assumed to be Derek, and desperately needed to know what was happening.

              “What’s going on there, Scotty?”

              “Well,” Scott said, “there have been attacks on campers in the woods recently. People have been disappearing. Derek and I think that there might be another wolf, and one that doesn’t play by our rules.”

              “How do you know it’s a wolf? Maybe people are just leaving never to be heard from again. Oh wait, that’d be too simple for us” said Stiles, a little too hopefully.

              “Seriously Stiles, the sites have been covered in claw marks and even worse, someone or _something_ has been marking its territory. It reeks.”

              “Oh, well that’s, um, primitive; but it’s just that after-kill urination that people always get. I mean I get it _all_ the time, you just kill someone and need to pee, it’s a natural way of life. Just accept it Scott. But anyways, what do you think they’re doing with all the people?”

              “I don’t know, maybe killing for fun? Derek said that sometimes our kind likes to hunt, something about the chase being more fun than the kill.”

              “Seems pretty twisted to me, but then again so is Derek. I guess we know what kind of person we’re looking for,” offered Stiles as he and Scott left the classroom.

School was over and Stiles intended to get home. It was Friday and there was a party later that night, which he was going to attend along with Scott and the others, he was not going to let some rabid werewolf get in the way of his fun, after all they’d managed a Kanima, alpha pack, and a druid. What’s a werewolf? Nothing but an oversized fluffball, that’s what. Realizing he hadn’t responded yet Stiles followed up with

              “So I’ll just keep my ears open at home, just in case my dad mentions anything about it, and there’s that. Problem solved, now, I’d loved to stay and chat, but I’ve got to leave and get ready for tonight. I’ll see you downtown, and if you say no I swear to the—”

              “Yea, I get it. I’ll see you there. 11:00, right? Now go, I’ve just got to text Derek back. He’s going to look around in the woods tonight because we’ll all be busy.”

“Good,” said Stiles, “tonight is going to be a break from all of the supernatural, well except you, Isaac, Lydia, Allison and Aiden, so basically just no Supernatural events, Okay?” With that he left, a little disappointed that there wasn’t going to be a chance of Derek showing up, but then again it’s probably for the best, it’s not like he’d ever go for him, Stiles is a dude, and not even an attractive one at that. Derek is _way_ out of his league, but you can’t stop a boy from dreaming—or at least fantasizing.

              Stiles went home and napped. When he woke up Stiles started to change his clothes. Thinking about how lonely Derek would be tonight, scouring the forest waiting for a killer to emerge from the darkness, and how Stiles could help warm him find that wolf and then they would rejoice and have a wonderful bond together. “ _Yea right.”_ Said his internal self. Stiles, instead, decided that he could only hope that Derek would be thinking about him for once.

While changing into pants, Stiles couldn’t help but think about Derek’s muscular hands grabbing him from behind and pulling him close. Then how he’d guide Derek’s hands down his body, letting  Derek’s fingers tiptoe ever so lightly around his pelvis, playfully pushing Stiles’ v-line, Derek’s muscular arms swaying to entertain Stiles in his erotic dance. Stiles’ arm would snake around Derek’s neck and entice him to lean over and complete the figure by letting their lips caress. Stiles then tripped over his shoes, slammed his head into a wall forcing the illusion to dissipate.

“ _What time is it?”_ Stiles started to think, glancing to the right, Stiles saw that it was already 11:00 pm. SHIT! He should be meeting his friends already. Stiles grabbed his shoes and keys, then ran out the door speeding away in his jeep.

******************************

              “Sorry! It took forever to find a decent place to park,” said Stiles while jogging up to his friends, “there’s just never a spot downtown that’s conveniently located for anyone ever, it’s like they just expect us all to run around with not parking spaces, tuck and roll from moving cars and just let them move on until they hit something. Seriously, will they ever fix the absence of parking lots downtown? Probably not.”

              “Don’t worry about it, let’s just get down to the warehouse, it’s supposed to be the party of the year.” Scott said as he and the others turned to start leaving.

              “Oh no,” Stiles complained as he started to feel that chill in the night air, “I left my sweatshirt in my Jeep. Just keep walking and I’ll catch up with you in a sec.”

              While walking back through the parking garage and muttering something to himself about always leaving things behind yet still being the smart one, Stiles had a creeping suspicion that someone— _something_ —was watching him. He whipped around, startled, looking for the culprit. A flash of movement left Stiles only able to see a fleeting dark figure. He screamed in alarm and ran back to his friends. Dashing through the streets and careening off of walls until he found Scott after he crashed into him in an alleyway next to the warehouse where the party was.

              “AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! THERE WAS THIS THING AND IT MOVED AND IT WAS WATCHING ME AND SCOTT! IT’S A CRAZY WOLF!” Stiles yelled while flailing his arms attempting to describe what had happened, but instead continued to freak out. “I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! FIRST THERE WAS THE THING WITH THE VIRGINS AND NOW THIS! MY LITTLE, PATHETIC, HUMAN HEART CAN’T TAKE THIS KIND OF STRESS. I’M MOVING TO ALBERTA, I’ve heard it’s quite nice this time of year and, oh wait, THERE’S NO FREAKING WEREWOLVES!”

              Scott grabbed Stiles by the side of the arms and yelled, “STILES! Shutup! Just breathe. Tell me what happened,” as he attempted to soothe Stiles.

              “Well, I was walking to get my sweatshirt—like a normal person— and then there was this thing watching me and then I looked and I saw it leaving and it was a werewolf, I think, and I’m going to DIE AND I’M TOO YOUNG FOR THIS!” Stiles continued to exclaim.

              “Hold on, I’m going to text Derek that you saw the wolf downtown. He’ll take care of it tonight. Don’t worry everything thing is going to be okay. We’ll all go in and enjoy the party, drink a little too much and Derek will handle it. Just trust me”

              “As long as the Sourwolf keeps Crazy Wolf away I’ll be fine,” Stiles added on, while silently pleading to the universe, “ _please let him be safe tonight, don’t let him get hurt.”_

              Stiles watched Scott send a text to Derek and deposit his phone in his pocket before saying, “now let’s go and have a good time.” With that, Scott pushed open the doors to reveal a sight unlike any other.

              The venue hosted a body of energy. The crowd at its heart was beating, supplying life to the dark warehouse. Music resounding, flowing smoothly as silk, wrapping and engulfing Stiles along with his friends, incurring a feeling of electricity to pulse throughout their veins. The Music’s constant stream tugged at their bodies, injecting life into their previously deceased spirits, asphyxiating any signs of sadness. The clot of bodies in the center was illuminated by the black lights situated throughout the building. The mass of people was painted with glowing tribal patterns and detailed runes, leaving the group awash in an aura of neon. People would branch off from the mass in a display of exotic dances, leaping while twisting in the air, letting time slow and the bass fade during their display of aerial contortions. The music seemed to focus on the performances, and when the performers’ feet touched the ground, they would move to the steady drumming of the bass once more. With their chests rattling, each performer wove themselves seamlessly into a tapestry of life.

              With skull thrumming and hands shaking, Stiles joined the mass and danced. The group followed his lead with Allison and Isaac caressing each other, Scott leading Kira through an existential exploration, and Lydia glaring at Aiden across the room. After entering the crowd, Stiles quickly found a female counterpart, if everyone else is going to find someone to dance with he needed _somebody_. Letting their bodies converse through pelvic grinds and curious hands, Stiles began to let his mind wander, he was enjoying this but he still longed for Derek. He decided to submerge himself in the moment, instead of wallowing, because he knew his fantasy was hopeless. Stiles found his partner’s body was phenomenally curved, complemented with wild black hair and her symmetrical face was adorned with crazed emerald eyes. Yet her perfection seemed dampened by the thought of Derek’s stormy eyes. His longing for Derek grew the more he resisted the thoughts. They became so realistic he could’ve sworn he saw him on the edge of the crowd, holding a drink and looking in, catching Stiles’ eyes.

              “Scott!” Stiles leaned over and yelled. “Does that look like Derek to you? Why is he here when Crazy Wolf is out there!?”

              “I’m sure you’re just imagining thi-“ Scott shouted while turning to face Stiles, but his surprise cut him off. “Holy crap! That’s him! Why is he here? He should be chasing the other wolf!”

              The two stopped dancing, told their partners they’d be right back, and pressed through the crowd in order to talk to Derek.

              Derek saw them and motioned form them to meet him over where the drinks were across the room. While walking up to him, Stiles saw that Derek was wearing a light blue Henley that glowed in the black light, paired with dark, slim, jeans, and a dark brown leather jacket. Despite all of the clothes, Stiles could still see his muscled arms flex as he lifted the drink to his mouth as they reached him.

              “DEREK! What the hell are you doing here?” exclaimed Scott. You’re supposed to be finding that wolf!

              “Yea Derek! Where is Crazy Wolf????” yelled Stiles, throwing his arms up like a rearing chicken, mainly only out of frustration of not being able to have Derek.

              “Would you two shutup? I can see you’re both fine.” Derek shouted over the music as he rolled his eyes. “I was following it, then it ran in here. The noise of the music and the stench of hormonal teenagers makes it almost impossible for me to find it.”

              “I think I need a drink now” Stiles said as he idiotically snatched Derek’s drink out of his hand and gulped it down while listening to—no almost feeling, surprisingly over the bass— a rumbling emit Derek’s chest, and then continued to take a couple of shots to supplement the missing portion of Derek’s stolen drink.

              “You shouldn’t drink, you know that Stiles? It’s bad for underage, hyperactive, teenagers.” Growled Derek.

              “What do you care?” Stiles said as he began to scramble and slur his words after drinking  his seventh shot. If I’m gonna to dieee tonight, I want todieha-ppy.”

              “Whatever,” he said turning to Scott “get the others and tell them to leave or help find it.” Derek threatened as he pushed them out of his way, then pointing a finger at Stiles he said “And make sure the lightweight here doesn’t overdo it.”

              “Well I’m going to go find Kira and the others, you stay right here and stop drinking. Okay?” said Scott.

“Whatever wolf boy.” Sassed Stiles as he began to raise another shot to his lips.

Scott took the drink out of Stiles’ hands before shaking him while reiterating “Stiles. I’m serious, stop.  I can’t drive you home tonight and there is no way you’re taking yourself there. Just stop drinking for right now, we’re going to be okay.” Only Stiles wasn’t drinking because of Crazy Wolf, he was drinking because he was trying to forget about Derek, and Stiles didn’t stop.

The party was dying down and people were leaving along with the rest of the group Stiles had come with, they had decided to stay and help look. Stiles had stumbled back into the crowd and found the girl he was dancing with and gotten her number before he tried to leave, he could always try and force something if he couldn’t have Derek. In the midst of his stupor, Stile somehow found his way into the alley where he had ran into the others earlier that night. Except it was colder now and Stiles was drunk. He stepped outside and lurched forward up against the wall, with a hand pressed up against it to stop him from colliding with it. The world began to unravel from the tapestry he had just left, the dark blended with the eerie streetlight at the end of the alley, each string of color began to feel as if it was erupting from his mouth as he vomited up a burning liquid. Wishing he had his sweatshirt, he wiped off his mouth and cradled himself as he began to wander back to the parking garage.

A can skipped across the alley under a small light against the wall, and blue glowing eyes met Stiles’ drunken stare from the dark. Stiles, assuming it was Derek, bent over to pick up the can but fell over instead in the small alcove of light. The eyes came closer and with the wolf’s heavy breathing a hand reached out into the light, a hand that he knew was not Derek’s because it was too small and the claws were much longer. Stiles tried to scream and run away, except his body wouldn’t respond and all that Stiles could manage was a horrified grunt. Then a roar ripped through the air and Derek ran into the alleyway. Teeth and claws revealed, and ready to protect Stiles. The other wolf turned and ran as Derek sprinted towards Stiles.

              When Derek reached him, he picked up a shaking Stiles, and after he had slung one arm over his shoulder, he instructed, “come on Stiles. Let’s get you home and cleaned up.”

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************

 


	2. What Am I Thinking About?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH I'M SO SORRY!!! I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST LAST WEDNESDAY BUT I HAVE IB EXAMS COMING UP IN A WEEK AND WELL..... YEA....... I'M NOT PREPARED FOR THEM AT ALL AND UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH WELL HERE IS ONE CHAPTER AND CHAPTER 3 WILL BE COMING THIS WEDNESDAY AS WELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE COMMENT AND TELL ME WHETHER OR NOT YOU LIKE IT!!! THIS IS MY FIRST FAN FIC SO IT IS PRETTY ROUGH!!!

_He’s staring, again._ But what was Derek going to do about it? Tell him to stop? Well he’d tried that already, and Stiles couldn’t take a hint. _Stiles reeks of arousal, it’s a wonder Scott hasn’t noticed. Perhaps he had though, he most likely assumed it was for Lydia. There he goes, examining my facial hair; he probably wants some, the little cub is bare._ Derek smirked at the idea of Stiles with a dark scruff, what a ridiculous thought. Getting tired of him staring, Derek decided to end it. 

              He looked at him expectantly, “Can I help you? Do you need your throat ripped out or something?” he said just waiting for his scrambled response. Stiles’ face scrunched, scouring for a reply.

              “No, uh actually. I quite like my throat,” Stiles looked out of breath, as if that response had taken almost all of it out of him. “Helps me breathe and all…” he squeezed out. He let his shoulders relax as his face begin to brighten, Derek knew it was because he caught Stiles staring. _Did he really think that I wouldn’t notice all this time?_ Stiles’ sarcastic comment was the only response Derek would get “Scott, are you two wittle puppies finished talking about the fire hydrant over there? We have to get to Math.”

              “Sure,” Scott said, oblivious to what had just happened. “I’ll text you after I’m done with class.”

              Scott may not mind the comment, but Derek did, “text me, we don’t know who the wolf will target next. It seems to be the weak and vulnerable but…” looking over at Stiles. “Well, maybe we do know someone.” With that, Derek turned to leave before Stiles could even comment on what had happened. He didn’t know how Stiles would have responded, but what he did know is that he was watching him leave.

              He could feel Stiles watching him walk, open the door, and drop into his car. Stiles was watching—always watching. Derek didn’t mind it, well he wasn’t quite sure what he thought about it at all. Stiles has started examining Derek incessantly after the Kanima incident, and he didn’t know why. Derek was just helping fix a problem, simple as that. He remembered sitting in Stiles’ jeep, him idiotically asking how Derek would distract the police at the desk. Sighing as he reminisced in the memory until he arrived at his loft.

              Clicking boots and a jacket landing with a simple _thud_ made Derek feel home again. The silence wrapped its arms around him as he let himself fall into its embrace as he laid himself on his couch. It caught him, just as Stiles did while he plummeted within the pool, gentle yet firm, a confirmation of protection. _Oh god, what am I thinking about?_ A soft ding interrupting his train of thought.

[ _From Scott_ ]:

              _We need a plan for tonight_

Derek rolled his eyes because it seemed to be an obvious point. 

_[From Derek]:_                                                   

              _Yea we do._

_[From Scott]:_

_Can you take the watch for tonight? I promised Stiles we would all go out tonight. He wants a “Supernatural free night” or something._

[From Derek]:

              _Of course he does. Sure._

              Derek sighed, a little irritated. _Stiles… When isn’t Stiles doing something that distracts Scott from more pressing matters? I guess the guy deserves it though. Werewolves and all, he isn’t even one and yet he accepts us. I remember when he first found out, those inquisitive eyes exploring us. His elegant cheekbones highlighting his appalled expression, with milky—okay that’s enough. What is wrong with me? No more romance novels for your late night reading. Time to get started I guess._

              Pushing himself off of his couch, he begrudgingly slung his jacket over his shoulder, pulled his boots on, and let forth a low growl as he exited his building—Scott owed him. 

_***********************************_

              _Dammit_! Derek cursed as he moved powerfully over cars, climbing up the parking garage. The wolf had gotten away from him and judging by the scream, had found a very unsuspecting Stiles. This resounding scream pushed Derek to the edge. His eyes glowing with a new intensity, he wouldn’t let it come anywhere near him.  _If it so much as touches him_. He growled as the thought rose to the surface of the constant stream of consciousness that was currently in tumult.

              He saw its tail and immediately lunged, missing it as it, no she, looked back with a cruel joy. _She thinks this is a game? I’ll show her the rules. Rule number one: don’t touch Stiles._ Derek didn’t have time to register the nature of his thoughts as he bounded over cars and landed aggressively on the concrete. A roar erupted from his chest, listening for the wolf. The only response was the quiet ding of his phone.

              [ _From Scott]:_

_Dude! You’re supposed to keep the wolf AWAY from downtown! Keep following it, Stiles said it’s in the garage._

Derek huffed, annoyed that Scott felt he was incompetent.

_[From Derek]:_

_You think I don’t already know? Unlike you, I’m aware of my responsibilities._

              Derek didn’t know if Scott would actually read the text, but he was frustrated enough already. “Where are you? Show yourself!” boomed Derek, the words flowed from his throat in a geyser of force, propelling themselves throughout the air, drifting as he prowled within the complex. At that moment, he caught it, the putrid stench of lavender. It was intoxicating, it seemed to suffocate his other senses, its poisonous tendrils prying at his nostrils, filling his body with it, and he followed it. This was the one who crossed onto his territory, the one who threatened his friends, or at least good acquaintances. That’s what Stiles was, right?

              As he traced the disturbing scent Derek found her, looking down he could see that she was in the street. She waved before launching herself into the darkened alleyway, towards the party. Derek had no idea how he was going to contain this. Thinking to himself, _I hope Stiles is safe,_ as he pursued the transgressor.

*******************************

              The inside of the rave was a disaster. Droplets of sweat rained from its dancers. Each one involved in a bizarre show of physical movement, letting the repetitive music carry them monotonously as their intoxicated feet slipped, looking for the ground beneath them. Each sound was emptying Derek’s head of coherence. The party reeked of desperation and wasted potential, each body slick with despair and drowned sorrows. A night that will always be remembered through the haze of **debauchery**. The scents overwhelmed him, rolling from the mass in the center, alcohol poured from salty fingers and flooded the floor as Derek struggled against the current. Each chest rattling thud brought forth a new wave scents, perfumes and lotions mingled with saliva, speckling his nose. He pathetically sifted through new smells, seeking out lavender. He caught it from time to time, but it’s previously anchored tendrils seemed to appear in each chain of odors that shackled him to where he stood. In order to settle the anger rising within him, he quelled his overpowered senses through swiftly finding alcohol.

              After sedating his nose, Derek scanned the crowd, locating Stiles who was dancing with a fierce and wild partner. Their bodies moved in harmony, communicating with their bonded joints. The way his hips swayed into hers pulled a low growl from Derek’s shaking chest. He responded with a gulp to silence the unwarranted reaction. The way she encroached upon Stiles’ body, wrapping her neck around and claiming him left Derek with an unusual emotion, that is until Stiles noticed him staring through the crowd.

              He saw him yell to Scott, their conversation muffled by the repeated thudding of the music, but it was clear they would find their way over to Derek.

“DEREK!” Scott began, “what the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be finding that wolf!”

              Before he could respond, Stiles bounded in, resounding a summary of Scott’s previous statement.

              “Yea Derek! Where is Crazy Wolf????”

              Derek started with his infamous eye roll and let its momentum carry into his response “Would you two shutup? I can see you’re both fine.” Sighing he added, “I was following it, then it ran in here. The noise of the music and the stench of hormonal teenagers makes it almost impossible for me to find it.”

              Appearing as if he were going to faint Stiles stupidly grabbed Derek’s drink while explaining “I think I need a drink now”

              Derek’s chest began to rumble, not many people so openly violated his personal space, but then again Stiles was completely unaware of boundaries. It took more control that Derek felt necessary to contain the growl that was slowly rising to his throat, it wasn’t one of offense, but more one of protection. Derek wanted to swipe the drink out of Stiles’ hand to stop him from hurting himself. The feeling didn’t subside either, specifically as Stiles continued to consume more shots that immediately followed Derek’s drink. He began to outright growl. Growl at the thought of Stiles getting drunk, this was so unlike him. He needed to get away from this.

              “You shouldn’t drink, you know that Stiles? It’s bad for underage, hyperactive, teenagers.” Derek spat out.

              “What do you care?” countered Stiles, as he began to slur his words, “if I’m gonna to dieee tonight, I want todieha-ppy.”

              The only problem though was that Derek did care, too much. _What is happening?! This cannot be real. Just walk away Derek, just walk away._

              “Whatever,” he said turning to Scott “get the others and tell them to leave or help find it.” Derek threatened as he pushed them out of his way, then pointing a finger at Stiles he said “And make sure the lightweight here doesn’t overdo it.”

              He kept walking, scowling at those who dared to make eye-contact, enraged at Stiles’ lack of self-control. His muscles kept tensing and the tension kept building, the environment was too loud, it hurt his ears, lights stabbed his eyes with white, the smells fought with his nose and the air was so thick he could taste the revolting salty tinge of sweat. It loaded his senses, he was shoved from person to person. He grabbed the nearest one to him, and threw them. He _had_ to get out of this squirming vortex of bodies; but it seemed to him that each encounter with his senses threatened to choke him. Arms taut and legs rigid, he forced himself through the mob, finally finding the door to freedom.

              Gasping for air, throwing his hand to his throat he began to breathe. His nose grasped at the new scents. A sweaty being down the alleyway was preparing to vomit. He could hear the surge in their stomach, the churning of its contents, and the smell of the alcohol within, its fire consumed the oxygen, setting it ablaze with the painful aroma. The sound of its upheaval was nearly too much, but then his nose revealed a new scent, Stiles’. It was innocent, doused with cologne and full of a soft musk that mimicked fresh rain. Then he scented another body, lavender. Stiles was in trouble!

              Derek released a built up howl, warning the other wolf. He could hear it growl at Stiles and his weak grunt. Sprinting faster than he believed possible Derek approached the scene and leaped between the two. The other wolf ran before Derek was even within an arm’s length.

              When he finally reached Stiles, after an eternal sprint, he knelt down, threw an arm over his shoulder and protectively guided him by saying, “come on Stiles. Let’s get you home and cleaned up.” To which Stiles only moaned and what Derek decided to consider a nod.

              Getting Stiles into his Jeep was the most difficult part of the process. Derek could drag him up a parking garage’s stairs no problem, he may have a few unexplained bruises in the morning but he’d live. As they came closer to the car though, then the problems began to appear. Stiles was shaking uncontrollably. It was slightly cold, Derek hadn’t really noticed due to his werewolf metabolism that kept his body at an appropriate temperature by adjusting accordingly. However, he knew that Stiles’ body was not working in the same exact way.

              “Cold…sweatshirt in car…” mumbled Stiles as Derek continued to drag him to the car. He could feel his cold body shivering, he grabbed Derek and held him closer. Derek didn’t know how to react. He could push him off, but he didn’t exactly object to this, he was simply paying off a debt to Stiles, that was it. He looked so cold and weak. Finally realizing what he could do, Derek balanced Stiles against a wall. Well, Stiles more or less slumped against the concrete wall and slowly fell. Before he could fall to the pavement, Derek had deftly removed his leather jacket and placed it on Stiles and picked him up again. It seemed to stop the shivering, Derek felt proud, knowing he was caring for someone.

              When they reached the Jeep at last, he realized he didn’t have the keys. The idea occurred to him that he would have to fish through Stiles’ pockets for the keys. He started on the left side, and found nothing. _Figures, that’d be just your luck_. He started to rummage in Stiles’ right pocket when he accidentally touched something that moved, apparently there was a third party in this garage. He found the keys all the way at the bottom of the pocket. He was careful pulling his hand, making sure he didn’t shake hands with the new member to this rescue party. As he opened the doors, he placed Stiles carefully in the passenger seat and buckled him in. Coming in on the driver’s side, he watched Stiles snuggle into his jacket, inhale deeply and release a relaxed sigh before falling into a drunken slumber. Stiles must find his scent relaxing. Derek felt a shy, almost purring sound, coming from his, apparently rather expressive, chest. Careful not to wake his co-pilot he beat his ribs to silence their chatter. He started the car, and began the gentle drive back to the Stilinski household.

******************************

              Derek was thankful that Stiles was at least careful enough to coordinate this drunken escapade with one of the Sheriff’s night shifts. This permitted Derek to open the door and bring Stiles upstairs to his room. It was fairly odd to enter from the door instead of the window, thought Derek as he placed Stiles in bed after removing his shoes. He tucked Stiles in bed and left his jacket on him to avoid waking him, as Derek would later justify it. The bed seemed to carefully envelop Stiles as Derek relinquished his protective grip on Stiles. He stared at the peaceful body in the bed, noticing how the moonlight bent itself to shine gently upon his haggard face, rejuvenating the life within Stiles, protecting him. Before Derek slipped through the window, he heard Stiles, just under his breath, whisper

              “I love you mom.”

Leaving Derek not only heartbroken, but also proud, as he mustered a “You’re welcome,” and left.

The warmth of his pride heated him throughout the night as he crossed streets to his car, where he could then make his way home, thinking of only Stiles as he drove, looking at the moon, knowing that it was protecting him.

 

             

             


	3. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOODNESS I'M SO SORRY, YOU KNOW I HAVE IB EXAMS AND THINGS. I HAVE TO TAKE 13 OF THEM SO I'M SORRY, BE PATIENT. I HOPE YOU'RE ALL ENJOYING THE FAN FIC SO FAR. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T HATE ME FOR BEING LATE. I'M NOW CHANGING MY POST DATE TO EVERY FRIDAY. IT WILL BE MORE MANAGEABLE FOR ME. WELL HERE IS SOME STEREK AND THINGS....LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!! PLEASE COMMENT. SO THIS IS THE DAY AFTER, REMEMBER THAT STILES WAS TUCKED IN BY DEREK AND STUFF...... YEA....

 Putrid stenches ripped at Stiles’ nose, his stomach lurched at the sharp stabs of light piercing his eyes. His skull thrumming with the noise of his own blood. Thumping, _pulse, retract, pulse, repeat_ , Stiles thought to himself. The incessant noise eroded his calm morning demeanor. He raised a hand to wipe away a bead of sweat that danced its way down his forehead and towards his eye, his motion had the intent of grace, but the execution of an elephant’s tail swatting flies. It dropped into his eye, causing him to stifle a cry of pain. His skin felt odd, somewhat tough like something was around it, perhaps it was the dehydration from last night’s drinking.

            After the exemplary failure of his hand-eye coordination, he shifted his legs to land on the floor only to dawdle in the direction of the bathroom. He felt a weight around his shoulders, bringing him down, making him sway more than he should have. He soon became intimate with walls, allowing his hands to explore the plaster and paint in ways his lucid self never would have thought possible. His legs waged wars with the ground beneath him, a fight for independence from gravity, one his chin was not keen to join. With a stomping rage and too much stumbling, Stiles made it through his room and the hallway, where he eventually reached the bathroom, concluding his trek. Turning to the mirror he began to pose while beginning to announce,

“They shall call me STILES STILINSKI! Hangover veteran, the master of gravity, conquistador of _–_ Derek’s jacket?”

            The words fell from his mouth as he did his bed, pooling in his shock. What was Derek’s jacket doing on him?

            _OH MY GOODNESS I AM SO DEAD, HOW DO I HAVE THIS?! DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT DRUNK STILES! One, I am very curious as to how I was able to temporarily appropriate Derek’s jacket onto my shoulders whilst in a drunken haze, and two, NOW I’M DEAD!_

Placing his hand in front of him, he leaned into the mirror, glaring at himself intently.

            “Okay Stiles, you’re just gonna walk yourself through this. One, take it off. _If only Derek were telling me to do that_. Two, hang it up in your room. Three, do not smell it, _but I do wonder…_ ” he raised it to his nose and deeply inhaled the musky scent that clung desperately to the leather. He allowed it to encircle him, twine itself around his head and soothe his mind. He looked up. “No! Bad Stiles, bad! Four, text him, he can’t be THAT mad.”

            He patted his pants, which he had, apparently, slept in, only to realize his phone wasn’t in them. _Shit._ He realized that he would have to traverse back to his room, he put the jacket back on for good luck as he intended to be more stable in his return. He wasn’t. Cartwheeling arms and thuds resounding marked the dance of the hungover swan. He pirouetted in front of the door and thought to himself as he opened the door _it’s a good thing dad is still stuck at the station, I’d be hanging from the shower curtain, skinned, if he were to find me in…well…_ he sighed thinking of Derek.

Beginning to argue with himself, “maybe I could keep it just for the week—” his sentenced stopped short by the immaculate Derek Hale looking rather impatient in his desk chair, making Stiles squeal out of fright, its force throwing him against where the door was supposed to be. Just as he began to fall, Derek caught him by the hand and pulled him close. The mere power of the movement sent Stiles’ cloudy mind into a spiral of wonder.

            “Are you going to give it back?” Derek asked

            “Give what back?” Stiles asked through his haze. “Oh, you mean this?” Stiles said grabbing at the jacket. “Well, of course I am, I mean I didn’t really know. Look, I’m really sorry about this and  I was drunk and did I mention I’m sorry and how you shouldn’t kill me because I wouldn’t be that tasty for you to eat and things, see I have bones and you’d have to put me, I mean they, in your mouth,” Derek’s scowl seemed to ground Stiles, “I’ll just stop talking.” Stiles concluded as he shrugged out of the jacket and handed it back to Derek, who sniffed it quickly and then put it on. Letting silence fill the air as Stiles began to wonder what had just happened.

            Derek cut through it first, “thanks,” was all he said.

            “No problamo Miguel, anytime old friend.” Responded Stiles as he slapped his arm onto Derek’s overly muscled body. The reactive glare was all it took to remind Stiles of what happened last time he had done such a thing, and not wanting to revisit the experience, he removed his and began to retreat.

            “So,” Stiles offered as he teetered onto his bed realizing what he had just done, “what brings you here, right now, in my room, with me, alone, in the morning?”

            “I needed my jacket.” Derek said, to an all but attentive Stiles. “I also…”

            Stiles meant to listen, he really did, but what happened instead was he began to lose himself in the maze of Derek’s scruff again. _Really, how was it so perfect?_ He thought to himself, until he was ripped from his thoughts by a now urgent voice.

            “…Stiles, Stiles! I was also asking if you were okay after last night”

            “Oh yea, I mean I’m fine, a little alcohol won’t get me down! I’m a hangover veteran, the Master of Gravity, a conquista—”

            “Yea, I heard.”

            “You, um, heard?” Stiles swallowed deeply, immediately embarrassed know that Derek was aware of his bathroom escapades.

            “But that’s not what I’m asking, did the wolf last night do anything to you?”

            “Wolf? Do you mean Crazy Wolf? It was there last night? No wonder I drank so much.”

            “You shouldn’t drink at all.” Derek uncharacteristically commented.

            “Since when do you care if I drink?” Stiles’ face turning red, blushing from the attention Derek was giving him.

            Derek rolled his eyes and sighed, as if that were answer enough, “well it did help you free up with a girl last night, you got a number.” Derek seemed to draw out the last four words.

            _Is that jealousy in his voice? No it must be surprise, he is merely shocked that I, Stiles Stilinski, had attracted a potential mate of the night. I am killin it—respond Stiles!!!!_

“Well she just realized that nobody can resist,” Stiles rose from the bed and motioned to his scrawny body where his shirt hung loosely around him, “this beauty, especially once my purity defenses were down.”

            Derek nearly choked on the air he was breathing. This caused his whole body to shudder, thrusting his chest forward, hacking and coughing, Derek slowly recovered after banging on his pecs with a heavy thudding sound. Derek leaned back in the chair, threw his hands behind his head and smiled. It was a gorgeous and carefree smile. Beaming, it seemed to illuminate the room, with the sun shining behind Derek’s head, engulfing him in a halo of joy. Yet just as quickly as it had appeared, the light was capped and his teeth were swiftly hidden behind his upper-lip.

            “Derek, can I ask you something? Not that I think it’s totally cool that I pulled this off, but,” Stiles began, elongating the ‘u’ and emphasizing the ‘t’, “how did I get your jacket, why haven’t you killed me yet—other than for the obvious reason that I’m amazing— and how did I get home?”

            “I thought you were cold, and I drove you home.” His face unreadable, it looked almost pained. _Did it really hurt him to use a sentence that long?_

“Well slow down there, Mr. Talkative-Wolf-Today. I would first, like to say thank you. Secondly, you soooo owed me, so we’ll call it even. Now that you are no longer indebted, is there anything else that you need?” _Other than my body so you can ravage me? Maybe for me to take my clothes off like the sexy stripper that I am—STILES GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF, everyone knows that  you would never…except for Derek._

Derek’s face hardened, causing him to respond with a calloused, “no.” He then rose from his place in Stiles’ office chair and prepared to leave from his window just as Stiles cried out.

            “Derek, wait. Thanks. Thanks for bringing me home and all that jazz.” Stiles got up and put his hand on Derek’s shoulder, “Thanks for being there.”

            Derek just looked at the hand, waiting for him to take it off. This was the second time within the same hour, Derek didn’t let this one go. He grabbed Stiles quickly by the shoulders, pulled him close. Stiles could feel his alluring scent tugging at him, luring him in, his eyes began to slowly shut, then Derek whispered, “don’t. Touch. Me,” just before he launched him into the wall above Stiles’ bed.

            By the time Stiles’ already muddied brain had regained itself, Derek had left, but Stiles was certain he could still feel his grasp on his shoulders as he pulled himself off his bed. He then slowly walked to the shower while muttering to himself, “so much for just texting him about it.” He reached his hand into the shower after arriving at the bathroom, pulled the nozzle to ‘hot’ and prepared for what was about to be a steamy shower.

            Stiles’ shower was anything but refreshing, he struggled with his heat for Derek, but tried to force himself to love girls. If he couldn’t have Derek, he would find an alternative. Nobody could know that Stiles was attracted to men, he had to support his façade. Stiles forced his mind to begin with scandalous images of various women. Women with curves and smooth skin. Women with voices like velvet and hair envied by angels, their beauty was ethereal, yet as he began to reach down to touch himself, the voices in his mind would become rougher, more graveled. The voices would become Derek’s. He could almost feel Derek’s grip on his shoulders, forcefully guiding his back to the wall of his bedroom. Stiles pictured his mouth being gently dominated by coarse yet soft lips. Stiles could feel his stomach drop, his heart flutter, and his body surge with electricity as he imagined Derek working his way down Stiles’ smooth and toned body, gently kissing, and Derek’s scruff dancing along his faint happy trail. He wanted it, a moan escaped his lips. Then he pushed it, he let his imagination place Derek’s mouth around his length. He imagined the warmth, Derek’s soft tongue forcefully wrestling with it, sliding, massaging, twirling and, “pressing,” the word passed through Stiles’ lips. He felt a ripping sensation build, pressing, his scrotum tighten, and his hips thrust. Stiles let himself go in the final moments of his fantasy, as he began to imagine cuddling with Derek, secure in his musk. If he could cuddle with Derek, he would feel protected, it would shield him like the steam of his shower does from the cold. Derek would hold him. Derek would make him feel, safe.

            Stiles sat there in the shower, letting the water wash away the immediate guilt he felt afterwards. He shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be thinking of Derek this way. He will force himself to move on, to move on to what he supposed to like. He felt like he was running, running away from himself, away from Derek, away from the man he felt he loved. Slowly leaving the shower, Stiles decided to text the girl from the night before, to see if he could finally do what was right. Derek wouldn’t ever love him, he couldn’t love him. He was straight, and Stiles was…well he wasn’t sure. 

           

           

           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST IN CASE YOU DIDN'T READ ABOVE: OH MY GOODNESS I'M SO SORRY, YOU KNOW I HAVE IB EXAMS AND THINGS. I HAVE TO TAKE 13 OF THEM SO I'M SORRY, BE PATIENT. I HOPE YOU'RE ALL ENJOYING THE FAN FIC SO FAR. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T HATE ME FOR BEING LATE. I'M NOW CHANGING MY POST DATE TO EVERY FRIDAY. IT WILL BE MORE MANAGEABLE FOR ME. WELL HERE IS SOME STEREK AND THINGS....LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!! PLEASE COMMENT. SO THIS IS THE DAY AFTER, REMEMBER THAT STILES WAS TUCKED IN BY DEREK AND STUFF...... YEA....

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to comment, and thank you so much for reading!!!!


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